Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 134 Night of the Avengers

After a sumptuous dinner, the group moved to the villa's large living room, which was not only more spacious and could accommodate the newly added guests, but also had large, open windows facing the garden that let in a cool breeze from the early summer night.

After chatting for a while, everyone's eyes finally fell on Lionel, who had not yet spoken.

“Lionel,” Zola’s voice was expectant, “it’s your turn. Let’s hear what story our youngest short story writer will bring us today.”

Lionel nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over 29-year-old Guy de Maupassant and then over 19-year-old Anton Pavlovich Chekhov, before silently rising and walking to the center of the living room.

The gaslight illuminated his figure, and his voice, though not loud, was exceptionally clear and cold: "Gentlemen, Emile's story depicts the brutality and complexity of war, while Guy's story is a brilliant dark satire."

My story, perhaps, is even smaller and more silent, like an inconspicuous seed of wheat, buried in the soil of the French countryside.

The story begins with the Prussians having occupied the entire Normandy region, while General Federico is still leading the Northern Army in a tenacious resistance against the enemy.

Lionel's voice was like, "...in the Normandy countryside, not far from Rouen, there is a small village, the master of which is named Pierre, Pierre Milon, and everyone calls him Old Man Milon."

He was sixty-eight years old that year, thin and hunched over, with large hands like crab claws; everyone thought he had a bad temper and was difficult to deal with.

In just a few words, Lionel sketched out the image of a typical French old farmer.

Such old farmers are a common sight in the French countryside: stubborn, persistent, hardworking, taciturn, and valuing their land and property more than their own lives—completely different from the frivolous and dissolute Parisians.

"...Then the Prussians came, requisitioned his grain, slaughtered his livestock, and used his house as a temporary barracks. Old Man Milon silently endured it, like a submissive old donkey."

In the presence of the Prussians, he always remained silent and submissive, almost appearing dull and foolish; he even served the Prussians, preparing hay and fetching clean water for them...

The Prussian officer found the old man harmless and even somewhat amusing, so he allowed him to roam around the farm…

Lionel narrated in a simple tone, yet this created a contrast between the image of Father Milon and the traits previously portrayed.

However, a twist soon appeared in the story:
"...However, the tranquility of the countryside was only a facade; beneath the surface, undercurrents were surging. Prussian soldiers began to disappear mysteriously, not dying on the battlefield, but vanishing silently while on patrol or at their posts."

Sometimes bodies are found near the edge of the woods with their throats slit; sometimes they are found in ditches with the back of their heads smashed by a blunt object; sometimes they are simply nowhere to be found, neither alive nor dead.

The assailant didn't even spare the horse, slashing its neck with a single blow.

Lionel recounts the bloody events in a calm tone, which makes the audience feel particularly horrified.

Sitting in the corner, Chekhov subconsciously moved towards the fireplace—even though there was no fire there.

Lionel's voice echoed in the living room: "Fear is spreading among the occupying forces. They are conducting frantic searches and torturing villagers, but to no avail. Rumors are circulating that it is the work of the elusive 'Avengers'..."

"Therefore, the Prussians carried out a horrific repression in the area, and peasants were often executed for a baseless accusation, while women were imprisoned."

They even tried to extract information from the children through intimidation, but to no avail…

Huysmann cursed angrily, "Damn Prussians, they only know how to attack unarmed peasants!"

Maupassant, who had served on the front lines, said bitterly, "Isn't that because the soldiers with guns in their hands had already been defeated and surrendered?"

Sigh, let's just listen to Leon continue..."

Lionel's tone remained calm despite the interruption: "...One morning, someone saw Old Man Milon lying in his own stable with a knife wound on his face, covered in blood."

On that very day, not far from Old Man Milon's farm, two lancers were found with their stomachs pierced. One of their sabers was stained with blood, suggesting he had fought his killer before dying.

“Huh? Old Man Milon?” Paul Alessik exclaimed.

"His subservience to the Prussians was all an act?" Henry Seal interjected. Leon Ennick, however, perked up: "Well done, old man Milon! I knew he was a patriot!"

Zola frowned slightly, offering no agreement; he felt that Lionel's story was not so simple.

Lionel didn't try to be mysterious: "Old Man Milon was arrested by the Prussians, and a military trial began right there on the grounds of his farm."

The colonel leading the occupying force asked him how he got the knife wound on his face and whether he knew who killed the two lancers.

Although everyone knew the answer, no one expected Old Man Milon's reply to be so straightforward: "It's me."

Lionel seemed to transform into that old man at that moment, his tone becoming resolute, startling the people listening to the story.

Then, a statement from "Old Man Milon" shocked everyone:

“I remember the second day after you arrived, at ten o’clock in the night, your soldiers stole fifty écues of hay, a cow and two sheep from me.”

I thought to myself, if you take another twenty écues from me, I'll come and get them back—oh, there's something else, I'll talk about it later.

Just then, I saw one of your cavalrymen sitting on the ditch behind the barn, smoking a pipe, so I took off my sickle and crept up behind him quietly...

In one swift motion, just one swift motion, his head was severed from his body like a ripe ear of wheat, before he could even utter a sound.

Go look at the bottom of the pond; you'll find him in a coal sack, along with a large rock.

When Lionel recounted the murder, he did so without any variation in tone, but rather in the simple, honest manner of an old farmer, as if killing a Prussian was no different from killing a chicken or a sheep.

What's even more unbelievable is the reason "Old Man Milon" committed the murders: the Prussian occupying forces had stolen his hay, cows, and sheep.

It wasn't out of any "patriotic sentiment," but simply because their property had been violated.

What theme did Lionel want to express?
Next, "Old Man Milon" revealed, like a river bursting its banks, how he killed the other Prussian soldiers.

Every night thereafter, he would wander through the villages, fields, and forests like a ghost, secretly killing any lone Prussians he encountered. In total, he killed sixteen of them.

And "Old Man Milon" also frankly mentioned "another thing" at the end—

“My father fought alongside Emperor Napoleon and was killed by you! Last month you also killed my youngest son, François, near Eiffel.

Eight for my father, eight for my son, the debt is settled, now no one owes anyone anything.

I don't know any of you! I don't even know where you came from.

Now you've broken into my house, occupied my estate, and stolen my things, as if this were your own home.

"I've already avenged those people, and I have no regrets whatsoever!" Old Man Milon said, straightening his back.

Lionel's voice gradually lowered, finally stopping abruptly after "Old Man Milon" was executed: "Old Man Milon was even smiling at them before he breathed his last."

The story ends. Lionel's voice disappears.

Like the previous two stories, there was no applause, only a deathly silence and heavy breathing.

Zola said in an almost hollow tone, "Léon, what story did you tell us..."

　Group 1 is full, join Group 2: 907063360
　　
　
(End of this chapter)